Majkru
by ForgetMeNotEd
Summary: When Harry walked to his death, Ron and Hermione couldn't abandon him. After an attempted apparition that was disrupted by a spell, Harry finds himself and his friends caught up in a world that was separated into clans and had young prisoners falling from the sky, with no hope of returning home.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own either fandom of this crossover, nor do I own any subject (location, characters, etc.) mentioned in these fandoms.**

* * *

Harry bit down the soft noise of discomfort that wanted to escape as he squinted his eyes. His glasses were lopsided, tossing the world into a mix of blurry blobs and sharp shapes. Hagrid's wails echoed around the silent forest before Bellatrix's voice cut through, slicing across his noises as easily as her dagger had with Dobby.

"My Lord," he could hear her whimper, sounds of crunching leaves and twigs overlapping with the rustle of clothing. Harsh panting could barely be heard over both Bellatrix and Hagrid, but it was loud enough to worry Harry. Something had happened to Voldemort while Harry was in the station. If the Dark Lord figured out that Harry was still alive, he surely wouldn't give mercy for the experience of near death.

Not that Harry believed him to be capable of mercy.

Swallowing back the blood that filled his mouth from biting on his tongue (and he didn't know if it happened when he fell to the ground or when he was fighting for everyone's lives earlier), Harry clenched his eyes tightly, relishing in the flashes that colored his eyelids. He was _alive_. The horcrux in him was dead, leaving Voldemort's snake as the only thing keeping the man - creature for sure, as Harry didn't think Voldemort could be a man after everything he did - tied to the world. Hopefully Neville would remedy that, though.

"The boy!" Voldemort's hoarse voice wheezed, sending chills down Harry's back.

"Is he dead?" Bellatrix asked immediately after. Harry supposed she could be truly curious, but he had a feeling that she only wanted to simper to Voldemort in order to stay on his good side. If the monster had one, that is.

Soft footsteps started towards him, but before whoever was walking could check him, a loud whoosh swept through the clearing. Harry's eyes snapped open, only to see darkness rising around him. Shouts and spellfire quickly filled the air, screams of fury and pain as people were hit sounding out the loudest.

Harry struggled to lift himself, trying to put his shaking arms under him to stand. But he didn't have to. Hermione and Ron were suddenly there, silently casting bright streaks of light towards the area Harry suspected Voldemort had stood.

"C'mon, mate," Ron groaned, tugging one of Harry's arms around his broad shoulder while Hermione did the same on his other side, tossing up strong shields to deflect flying bursts of lights. "Gotta get you outta here."

Hagrid's voice called out over the chaos, his steps adding to the noise with heavy thuds. "'Arry! Where's 'Arry?!"

Unfortunately, Harry couldn't get his mind to work correctly. Rather than asking after Hagrid, wondering how the giant man had gotten loose, his mouth was too sluggish for his thoughts. "Tol' you," he slurred, "not t'follow. Was s'posed t'get sn'ke. Neville, you, 'Mione. Kill h'crux."

"Neville said he's got it, Harry," Hermione grunted, moving slowly with each step that Ron took. Harry could only stumble along, his feet dragging slightly and making the walk more difficult. "He told us to help you - that you needed us more than he did. Do you have your wands?"

His brain was working a little too slow for his liking, but the training that they had done while on the run helped him to quickly make sense of her words. "H'lly in h'lster," he sighed out in answer past a heavy tongue. "Spruce in p'cket. Los' the ot'er h'lster."

If he had his other arm holster, he'd be able to feel the warmth of each wand through both arms. But after a surprise blasting hex had caused rubble to spray across his left side, his holster had unhooked in the sudden commotion that resulted, leaving his left arm bare. Now, his spruce wand was tucked snugly into his left pocket, the end peeking out enough for him to quickly grab when needed.

"That's alright, you can use my spare an-"

"Mudblood!" Bellatrix cut through Hermione's words, sending a vivid red spell hurtling towards them. "Bloodtraitor! You will regret ever going against the Dark Lord!"

Ron cursed from Harry's right. "'Mione, you gotta apparate us out of here." When she went to argue, slashing her wand to bring up a hastily cast shield, Ron let out a frustrated noise. "No time for arguing, 'Mione! The wards are down, we can apparate into the castle now. You know I'm not the best at it and Harry's in no condition to do it himself. It's gotta be you!"

Harry blinked slowly, catching the indecision written across Hermione's face while Ron took over defending them from Bellatrix and a few other Death Eater's that had spotted them through the pitch black fog. When her brown eyes met his, determination was quick to take over.

"Alright," she nodded, tightening her grip on Harry and reaching around to grab Ron's arm that was curled around Harry's waist. "Gryffindor Tower should still be standing. We'll go there."

She hurried to count to three, giving Ron enough time to curse the Death Eater's and stop casting before Harry felt the familiar tightening of apparition. His breath caught in his lungs, feeling as though they were collapsing from the sudden pressure on his ribs. A sharp twist had the dark world around them fading away. His last view of the shadowed forest showed Bellatrix's gleeful face as a sickly yellow spell raced towards their unprotected forms.

* * *

Everything was spinning in dizzying speeds, colors and foggy shapes blurring past. Harry felt as though his insides were being squeezed and mushed into one with Hermione and Ron's own bodies, his skin smudging into caramel colored tan, lightly freckled cream and spotted, lightly darkened tan. Red hair frizzed into tight curls and black hair briefly smoothed to become tamed before the colors and textures switched. Short became tall and curvy became rather gangly before, with a sharp crack, Harry slammed into a hard surface.

Pain exploded from multiple points of his body. His nose absolutely ached as it steadily leaked blood, his left calf screamed in agony with every shift he made and his head swam in pounding drums to the beat of his heart. Breath was difficult to pull in after such a ride, especially when his lungs felt as though they would collapse in on themselves every time they expanded with air.

Similar cries and moans sounded out from a few feet away, the deep noise alerting Harry to where Ron was. There was no sound from Hermione.

"'Mionge!" Harry tried to call, but blood poured into his mouth from his nose, making him gag and choke. Turning onto his side to spit it out, he gazed through bloody lens of cracked glasses and was met with an eyeful of chocolate curls. "'Ermionge," he mumbled, carefully pushing himself to sit up even though it made his head spin.

With trembling hands that were dirtied with blood and mud, Harry carefully rolled his best friend over to see her face. Other than a vivid red mark on her right cheek, Hermione's face and head were unharmed. His eyes darted along her body, squinting past the pain in order to see if she had any obvious injuries.

There! Her left arm, on the opposite side of the 'mudblood' scar Bellatrix had given her. Much of the skin was missing along with practically the whole sleeve of her sweater, leaving parts of Hermione's insides that Harry had never wanted to see visible. Blood leaked heavily from the wound, creating a pool around the left side of her body and drenching her soft pink sweater.

As gently as he could, Harry slid his hand into the pocket of her sweater that was closest to her injured arm. Soft clinking was heard as he removed the shrunken purse from her jacket, which was quickly returned to its normal size with a fumbling of his wand. Harry rushed to open the bag and shoved his arm in, feeling along the organized mess until his hand hit bottles.

"'Quare wid sharb ed'es," he mumbled, mind working fast to remember the description of the bottle he needed. "'Quare wid sh - ah!"

Harry jerked his hand away from the point that had pricked his finger, but hurriedly snatched the bottle as he forcefully pushed the pain away. With his whole body hurting, it wasn't as difficult as it should have been. A few drops, he reminded himself, unstoppering the bottle. While he worried that his shaking hands would make him drop the bottle, he was fortunate that the return of his mental state gave him the stubbornness that he needed to keep them steady.

Green smoke hissed as it drifted off of Hermione's previous wound, leaving newly formed skin that stopped the bleeding. He eyed the rest of her body, only to let out a sigh of relief when no other parts showed blood.

"'Arry?" Ron mumbled after a particularly sharp cry, and Harry quickly turned to his other best friend, pausing to let the dizzy spell pass. The redhead was turned onto his side not far from them, reaching a bloodied hand out. Harry dragged himself towards Ron and noted the various injuries.

His leg was in a similar state that Hermione's arm had been, but slightly smaller in size. His forehead held a thin cut, while tinier ones littered his cheeks and chin. The most worrisome wound, however, was the gaping hole that rested just below the scar from the locket.

"Dus' lay down, Won," Harry attempted to soothe as his hands deftly dripped the Essence of Dittany on his chest wound. Green smoke erupted, causing Ron to arch his back and release a hastily cut off scream. "'Mione's fine, I dust need do helb you, alrighd?"

Various drops of dittany later, Ron's pained whines tapered off into steady breathing as he slipped into unconsciousness. Once he was sure Ron was still breathing and that Hermione's chest was rising and falling, Harry eyed his surroundings.

Tall trees unlike any he'd ever seen before surrounded them, cloaking them from the bright sun beating down on them. Which was strange, since the forest had been dark when Harry went to stand before Voldemort. Unless the instant darkness powder that Hermione and Ron had used was messing with his mind, but he doubted that.

Birds sung, which was even stranger since the Forbidden Forest was usually silent save for the vicious snarls of whatever dangerous creatures resided in it. Green leaves bathed shadows across the muddy ground and some of the strangest flora Harry had ever seen peeked shyly out from tree trunks and grassy land. Then again, he thought to himself, magic did tend to make some crazy stuff.

Weird plants had to be included.

It was then that Harry noticed the faint shimmer of a bubble around them. It glowed a barely-there blue and seemed to be shrinking in on itself with every blink. Swallowing the taste of bile back, Harry shuffled as best as he could, gritting his teeth until he was between his friends. There was no escaping the incoming magic, though.

 _Shields_ , a voice eerily similar to Hermione's whispered in his mind. _Cast the protection wards I taught you._

Harry nodded along with the mini-Hermione in his mind and flicked his wrist, comfortably welcoming his holly wand in his palm. His left hand fumbled for the spruce wand that he had dropped after resizing the bag. Its slender, stubborn form rested just as easily as his other wand, thankfully not damaged from the rough landing.

"Repello Muggletum, Protego Maxima, Fianto Duri, Repello Inimicum," Harry mumbled, feeling the draining of his magic as he cast enchantment after enchantment over the area they landed. He wasn't as talented as Hermione was when it came to protective enchantments, but she had trained him and Ron as best as she could in the subject. Unlike Ron, however, Harry had learned more and thus had a wide variety of enchantments that he could use.

Finally, the last one snapped into place, forming a rather large, barely visible dome over the three of them. But it did nothing to stop the quickly fading dome of magic from inching closer and closer to them. He didn't know what it was, but he had a feeling that whatever came with it wasn't going to be any good.

He was right.

Pain, possibly worst than the cruciatus, slammed into him, attacking from every side. No - from the inside. His magic lashed out only to curl in on itself when whatever the attack was hit right back. Harry's magic was in no condition to even attempt to fight off whatever was invading his body.

Screams, cries, gasps, groans; noises poured out of his throat along with Ron and Hermione's. A small glimpse showed his skin bubbling, leaking blood and pus from popped blisters that continued to form faster than he believed possible. Something in him seemed to be burning and, as liquid filled his lungs, robbing any breath that he had recovered, Harry's vision clouded over.

* * *

 **Welcome to the first chapter of Majkru!**

 **This is a sort of test run that I'm doing. Unfortunately, I haven't seen any crossovers between HP and The 100 that are Harry-centric, so I decided that I might as well do one myself.**

 **Lengths of chapters will vary, though I hope to have longer ones.**

 **Harry's pairing is currently undecided, so I may leave it up to y'all to decide. I was leaning more towards either Bellamy, Miller or John, but I will admit to being weak for some Trio love.**

 **Harry is slurring when first speaking due to fatigue and has a broken nose later. I really hope that I was able to correctly bring his words across, lol. It was my best attempt.**

 **Hopefully y'all enjoyed reading! x**


	2. Chapter 2

**Review response:**

 **First, thank you,** **toile grant** **, for reading and reviewing. I really appreciate it.**

 **In answer to your question, Harry isn't gay, but he is bisexual. He is just as attracted to females as he is with males. I'm not putting a lot of emphasis on sexuality in the actual story itself, so I'd like to explain in this answer.**

 **Sexuality in The 100 is not seen as something to really focus on. Females are with females, males are with males, and females are with males. There isn't a big issue with the open sexualities in the show due to character's population control and stuff. In Harry Potter, sexuality isn't really discussed. Romance isn't the major focus. So I feel that the Wizarding World's view of sexuality is open for ff writers to go on.**

 **However, J.K. Rowling herself has said that she likes to believe that Dumbledore had romantic feelings for Grindelwald. Grindelwald may not return those affections, but they never prevented him from forging a friendship with Dumbledore. In my mind, I like to think that means that sexuality isn't important in the wizarding community (unless the matter of producing an heir is involved).**

 **As a bisexual woman, this works well with me. Most of my main characters in my original works tend to be bisexual because I never focus too hard on romance, and I like to make my characters easier to relate to for whoever is reading. Unless I focus on romance, sexuality in my characters isn't too important. Thus, I make them bisexual to make it easier for myself.**

 **For this story, most relationships will be canon. Monty with Harper, Jasper might be with Maya, Bellamy will sleep with a bunch of girls, Octavia will be with Lincoln, and Ron will be with Hermione. I will not be posting anything explicit. The most you'll see with those relationships are cuddling or hugging or short kisses or insinuations. Same with Harry's relationships. Yes, multiple. He will be with girls and he will be with guys.**

 **The 100 prisoners, Harry, Ron and Hermione are all teenagers. Teenagers experiment and stuff. Romance will not be the main focus (even though I have it tagged, but that's simply because I first planned for it to be the focus before I changed my mind), but there will be little moments where it comes into play.**

 **The most that sexuality will be brought up is with Harry and Hermione, since they were raised in modern muggle communities. But that's it and it's very brief.**

 **With that said, thank you for reading! I hope y'all enjoy! x**

* * *

Harry's eyes snapped open when something touched his shoulder. Ignoring the aches that followed, he rolled to the side and snapped up, wands slapping into his hands. With a push of his still weakened core, thin blades made of pure magic protruded from the tips of each wand. Him, Ron and Hermione had studied countless books concerning magic in the times of Vikings, Spartans and various other warriors, attempting to gain any advantage they could against Voldemort. Using their magic to create a multitude of weapons was what struck out the most in their minds and after constant training, they had all mastered the talent that left many warriors as the victors in battles.

Unfortunately for Harry, his magic was slowly trickling back, replenishing itself as much as it could without any food or drink to help. While he had pushed for full blades of swords, his magic rejected the attempt, instead taking on the forms of thin daggers.

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione's fondly exasperated voice pulled his attention from his low reserves. "I thought we had gotten past this already. Your magic already sensed mine and deemed that I'm not a threat."

"You know how he is, 'Mione," Ron cheerfully cut in with his own piece. When Harry looked over, Ron was wincing as he adjusted his position against a large rock. "Harry doesn't use his head until he's had some sugar."

Rolling his eyes but unable to deny what Ron said, Harry carefully soothed his agitated magic, mentally apologizing for working it before it was ready. Warmth spread from his chest as it receded back into him, leaving the tips of his fingers and toes tingling. "Sorry, Hermione," Harry sighed, brushing his floppy bangs back from his face with a small smile. "Took me a moment to think."

Hermione huffed but quickly yanked him into a tight hug before handing him a bottle. "Drink up," she murmured, the near-silent ' _please_ ' transferring itself over into his mind through their link. Harry unscrewed the bottle and guzzled down the cooled water, smacking his lips when it was completely gone. The familiar taste of the energy potion clung to the back of his throat, but the sugar that had been mixed in counteracted most of it.

Their long nights of studying had found that sugar was the best medicine for drained magic, giving their body the boost it needed in order to completely refill. Hermione had questioned it first in an attempt to distract from a gloomy mood.

She had wondered why the wizarding world tended to have countless sweet treats that were not only advertised for children, but adults as well, and had roped him and Ron into helping her figure it out. What had started as something simple to distract them had turned into the revelation of the day, which led to them purchasing multiple bags of sweets and sugars from cheap muggle shops, stocking up as much as they could. After all, they didn't know how long they would need to be on the run.

Ron was ecstatic, until he found out that Hermione would be the one in charge of it. Having dentists as parents had taught her how to limit how many sweets one could have, and she took the task very seriously.

"Thanks," Harry belatedly responded, handing the bottle back to Hermione. She refilled it with a tap of her wand and trickled a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into it. He didn't think that he would need it, but Harry accepted the bottle back anyway. His body was already thrumming with the boost in magic that was now filling itself up hurriedly with help from the sugar.

"Drink this one slowly, okay?" Hermione instructed, kneeling down to shove her arm into her bag. "We need to figure out what we're going to do now. As far as I'm aware, we're no longer near Hogwarts or Britain." Biting her lip, she reached even deeper until her whole shoulder threatened to sink into the purse. "I've tried summoning charms, tracking spells and point me's, but my wands merely spin in circles every time I do so. I'm hoping to cast the map circle and I need both of you to help, of course."

Harry nodded, shoulders slumping in relief with the information that they weren't close to Hogwarts and Voldemort. He did feel guilty that everyone else would need to deal with the insane monster and his followers, but he also felt that he had done his job. He had died, destroying the horcrux along with all the others, and all Neville needed to do was kill Nagini. And if Neville couldn't do it, Harry knew someone else could. The plant-obsessed Gryffindor wasn't the only one that he had told. Ginny, McGonagall, Lee and many others had also been informed of the important task.

But none of that mattered now. They needed to figure out where they were and then plan their next course of action once that was done. Then he would focus on the Nagini-Voldemort issue.

"Come on, Ron, you need to draw the circle and runes," Hermione called, throwing the redhead a narrow-eyed look. "And Harry, grab the knife from my jacket," she gestured towards the pile of bloody pink resting a few feet from them. "Have it ready so we can add our blood to the bowl."

Harry did as told, barely blinking when flakes of dried blood shook free from the once soft fabric. The tiny pocket knife slipped out of the unbuttoned pocket and into his hand, its silver stained with Hermione's blood. A tap of scourgify cleaned it.

When he turned back to his friends, Hermione had already portioned out the amount of potions needed from their limited supply while Ron was carefully cutting lines through soft dirt with his hands. If they were to continue casting the ritual of the map circle, they would need to brew more of the potions that it called for.

Potion's ready, Hermione's voice whispered in his mind, making him and Ron nod in acknowledgment. Ron quickly finished the circled runes and moved away, taking care not to accidentally smudge any of the lines. Last time an animal had slipped across a line of a rune they were using, a tree blew up. None of them wanted that.

"Here, Ron," Harry said, slicing a thin line across his middle finger with the knife before passing it to the redhead. While Ron busied himself with that, Harry squeezed three drops into the bowl of potions, grimacing at the sting.

"Four more, Harry," Hermione stopped him when he moved to heal the cut. She didn't look at him as she sliced her own finger. "We're doing seven drops this time, since it's a powerful magic number and we have no clue where we are."

Sharing a look with Ron, both of them leaned forward to add four more drops of blood to the bowl. The mixture in it glimmered a soft peach color when all three finished, before darkening to a deep red. "Here goes," Ron muttered and dumped the contents across the circle of runes.

Harry's vision faded as a view of the Earth took over his mind. The planet slowly increased the speed of its revolving until it was a blue-green blur, and Harry felt as though he was going to be sick until it suddenly stopped, the coordinates of their location floating above the Earth. Harry blinked. This couldn't be right. There was no bloody way that-

Shaking his head, Harry directed his magic into the runes, feeling Hermione and Ron do the same. As they continued pouring more and more, the Earth steadily zoomed in to show the land and its people. What he saw shocked him.

Miles of destroyed cities overrun by nature. Normal animals with multiple heads and limbs prowled around, some glowing while others were beyond the average size that their species should be. Plants and trees shimmered with luminescence. People dressed in leathers and furs, holding sharp weapons, inhabited parts of the world in obviously homemade huts and cabins. Villages echoed with faint voices of foreign languages. The only English speaking village Harry could spot was built out of a large chunk of scorched metal that had smoke lazily drifting from the large pit before it.

And there, countless miles away from the chunk of metal, stood the largest building yet.

Old, rusted and appearing as though it would crumble with the lightest winds, a tower lifted into the sky. Crowds bigger than any of the villages they had seen bustled around, looking like disorganized ants.

Before Harry could get a closer look, the potion completely soaked into the Earth, causing the vision to drain away.

"We're in the Forbidden Forest," Hermione voiced the disbelief that all of them were projecting through the emotion-based bond that connected their minds. "How is that possible? I pictured the Gryffindor Tower in my mind when I apparated. We should have moved at least a few feet before my magic started fighting the apparition."

"Mine started fighting it, too," Ron added in, using the dirt around them to cover and brush away the runes. "Harry's as well. That's why our bodies were blending together. Our magic was trying to keep us separated while it also fought the apparition."

Harry swallowed back the nausea that followed his remembrance of their warped bodies the apparition had caused. Rather than focus on the images called up from that, he tried thinking back to before Hermione had turned on the spot, when Ron was defending the three of them to give her enough time. His memory was blank in some spots since he hadn't had enough energy at the time to truly focus, but he was able to vaguely call up the blurred face of Bellatrix baring her teeth in a grin as a bright spell raced towards them.

"It wasn't the apparition that went wrong," Harry grimly cut through the conversation that Ron and Hermione had continued without his notice. "It was spell interference. Bellatrix shot something at us, probably a dark curse, and our magic reacted to fight it off." He sighed and rubbed a hand down his face, wincing at the tenderness of his nose. He must have broken it when they first landed here, and Hermione had probably fixed it for him with an episky. While the spell worked to heal broken bones, the tenderness left behind was something that Harry couldn't get used to. "Apparition must no-"

"-not be interrupted by magic that is cast. Interruption will cause splinching, and will increase the chances of mislocation," Hermione finished for him, Ron mouthing the words along and rolling his eyes. Harry had to crack a smile at that. Since their only form of travel was apparition, Hermione had all of them read any books concerning the act until they had memorized the most important facts. None of them wanted anything to happen while traveling, Ron and Harry had quickly gave up on protesting and practically jumped to study and learn.

Hermione had never been more proud.

The three of them sat in silence, knowing that they were stuck in this situation but not willing to say it out loud. All of them knew the amount of trouble that came with botched apparition. Hermione probably knew even more than Ron and Harry. Jumping from one point to another went against all laws of nature. Wizards and witches twisted the magical currents saturating gravity and air circulation when apparating, making the act a complicated and delicate process. Not only could people lose whole limbs, including their heads, they can also end up in a completely different place.

A different _world_.

If shock didn't get the wizard or witch killed first, then either the splinch bled them out or the nature of the new world they landed in attacked. In 1902, Halwitz McGregor - an Unspeakable with one of the highest records of NEWT and OWL O's - had apparated her and her daughter out of an attack on their home, but the daughter's accidental magic lashed out, disrupting the apparition. Halwitz had disappeared entirely, said to be in another dimension, while her daughter was found in the same location of their house without her head.

The charmed clock in their home had Halwitz's face caught on Traveling for a week before it switched to Mortal Peril. Then her picture on the clock arm clouded black as it switched to Deceased. Her Gringott's records claimed the cause of her death to be a wendigo, which was just as fictional in the magical world as it was in the muggle world.

Countless cases of people jumping to different dimensions dotted the history books of apparition, but since it hadn't happened in many decades, people slowly began to forget the strange phenomenons. Which was probably why Bellatrix cast the curse towards them, most likely hoping that they'd appear dead or incapacitated in the Gryffindor Tower.

Finally, Ron groaned and slumped back on the ground. "We're in another dimension," he said, staring blankly up at the bright sky. "Bellatrix bloody Lestrange tried to kill us, as usual, and only helped us escape. Bet the Dark Lord isn't too happy with her now."

Hermione perked up at his words, her brown eyes shining with excitement. "His name!" she exclaimed. "You-Know-Who's name still had the taboo curse on it when we apparated. All we have to do is say his name and test to see if we're really in a new world!"

With hope brewing in his chest, Harry immediately started chanting, repeating it over and over enough to make Ron flinch. "Voldemort, Voldemort, Voldemort, come on, Voldemort-"

"Enough!" Ron roared, eyes flickering around with nervousness. "You only needed to say it once, mate. V-Voldemort isn't coming to kill us, torture us or offer us tea with him and the Malfoy's. We're stuck in a world with no hope of going back, just like all those other poor bastards." Suddenly, his face turned white, making his freckles stand out sharply. "Mum's going to kill me."

Harry looked over at Hermione, who met his eyes at the same time. Together, they burst into laughter, bodies trembling as it quickly turned hysterical. Ron grumbled for a moment before he joined in, shaking his head at himself. Tears trailed down their cheeks, but none of them were sure if it was from laughing or their situation. None of them cared enough to figure it out.

"Your mum will be the least of your worries, Ronald," Hermione sighed, voice cracking with stray giggles and emotion. She swiped her hand under her eyes, streaking dirt across her cheeks as she did so. "If we're stuck here, we'll have to worry about strangers and animals and finding somewhere to live. We'll have to figure out the cultural differences between the different people and our own world, and we need to figure out how different the natural magic is in this world. That doesn't even include the unnatural dangers that will be here. None of those animals looked normal, even though many of them are in our own world..."

As Hermione rambled on, Harry sipped from the bottle of sugar water, feeling slightly better than he had before they did the map circle. A lot of it was probably from the sugar, but much of it was because of the laughter and crying. He hadn't had a chance to release all of his pent up emotions since before they went on the run. Even Hermione and Ron hadn't, though they seemed to have figured something out between them since they had kissed in front of Harry.

And while he was happy for them, he was much happier for himself. No more Dursley's. No more being cast as either a savior or a nuisance in the public's eye. No more having to rein in his emotions and temper. No more having to deal with pain and visions of torture and death. His whole body and soul felt so much lighter than he had ever believed possible. It was as though a weight had been lifted from the burden on his shoulders. He still had to worry for his best friend's lives and safety, of course, but he no longer had to worry for the whole wizarding population and the muggle population.

Harry was free.

"We'll figure it out, 'Mione," Harry spoke, his newfound cheeriness catching the two off guard. He didn't notice, though. "We've survived countless attempts on our lives and torture, you guys. We've had to adapt to our surroundings over and over, and we've had to hide within different cultures. Remember the visit to Australia? And then Canada?" At their nods, he grinned. "We can do this. I know we can."

The three of them fell into silence for a moment, simply listening to each other breathe, before Hermion's chapped lips spread into a gentle smile. "You're right, Harry," she laughed, reaching up to play with a chunk of her curls. "We've been through so much together. And while I'm going to miss everyone, especially my parents and Ron's family, I think we can move forward. We have to trust that Neville took care of the snake and Voldemort has been put down."

Ron winced at the name, but nodded along. "I'm gonna miss my family," his eyes reddened from withheld tears, "but I know that they'll be safe. They'll be able to move on and focus on Fred." All of them bowed their heads at the thought of Fred lying among many of the fallen, stable but having difficulties breathing due to a punctured lung. "They'll support each other, just like we all did when Uncle Gideon and Uncle Fabian's bodies were found." He looked up and gave his own shaky grin. "But first, I think we need to clean ourselves up a bit and change."

Harry glanced down at himself and wrinkled his nose. Dried blood (he couldn't tell what was his and what wasn't), dirt, grime, and a variety of other substances coated his clothes into stiffness and clung to the hairs of his arms and legs. Most of his skin was colored into a rusty brown, while his normally wild hair hardly moved due to the unnameable things slicking it back.

Raising his gaze, he noticed that his friends weren't any better than him. Hermione's golden skin was barely visible, while Ron's barely-tanned skin peeked out from random spots. Ron's vivid hair was peaked to point in random directions and Hermione's usual frizz was only noticeable through small spots of the clumps. Their clothes were not only dirty, but torn in many places as well.

"Scourgify isn't going to be enough for this," Hermione groaned, peeling her shirt away from her stomach. A sound similar to ripping paper accompanied it. "We'll have to find a lake or a river to wash off. I think I have our soaps in my bag."

While she rummaged through the purse, mumbling to herself, Ron frowned at Harry. "Why not just ask one of the places we saw if we can borrow their shower? We've got some muggle money on us to pay for it."

"Ron," Harry chuckled, bumping his friend's shoulder with his own, "do you really think they even have showers? Most of the places we saw were small huts and cabins."

"They also don't speak _English_ , remember?"

Ron looked between him and Hermione, a pout forming on his face. "But what about the ones in that metal thing? They spoke English just fine and they don't live in wood. They might have a shower!"

"Ronald," Hermione moved away from the small collection of soaps she was sorting through and rested her hands on his shoulders. "We're not going to walk up to complete strangers who have weapons and are surrounded by a giant wall without observing them first. I know you want a shower, but it's not going to happen. Understand?" Harry recognized the stubbornness that had her lips pressing into a white line and motioned for Ron to nod when he met his eyes. Ron sighed but reluctantly nodded his head. "Good, now let's find a lake or something," Hermione said, twisting around to carefully organize the soaps back into her purse. "Harry, drop the enchantments you put up."

Flicking his holly into his right hand and pulling his spruce from his pocket, Harry started pulling the enchantments down, taking care to remember the order he put them up in. He didn't want to accidentally collapse all of them by removing a lower enchantment. The memory of professor Flitwick informing them of the magical backlash was enough to make him realize just how dangerous collapsing enchantments could be.

With a sharp look at Ron and Hermione, both pulled out their wands right before the last enchantment gave away. After living on the run constantly surrounded by the protection of enchantments, all three felt bare without them. They weren't powerful enough to sense magic that was cast, but their mental bond gave them the ability to feel the brush of it on their skin. Now, though, they could only feel the warmth from the sun and the coolness of the slight breeze.

Hermione moved to stand slightly behind Harry, ready to cast a locator spell. Ron stayed a few steps behind, keeping a careful eye on the surroundings behind them and to the right, while Harry watched in front of them and to the left. "Point me, great lake," Hermione carefully pronounced, laying her apple wood wand across her palm. Harry mentally thanked fate for giving him such an intelligent best friend. He wouldn't have even thought to cast for the great lake. Hopefully this world's coordinates for the Forbidden Forest had a great lake of its own.

The wand spun almost lazily for a short moment, filling the three of them with tension, before it jerked to an abrupt halt, pointing the tip to the right of them. Relief bounced between the bond. The lake had to be close to them, otherwise the wand would have continued spinning in order to represent a longer distance.

"Ron, to the right. 'Mione, to the left," Harry directed, waiting for them to move on either side of him before moving forward. Each crunch of the steps he took sounded loud in the silence, leaving each of them warily eyeing the directions they were assigned to watch for any sort of movement. Minutes that felt like hours passed before Harry heard the familiar trickling of water. Passing through a line of trees revealed the lake to their eyes, and Harry was surprised.

The great lake in their world had been large, stretching along and around the lawn, seeming to be just as majestic as the castle had been. But this one was smaller, seeming to be broken apart by random rock formations, dirt and sand. Glowing schools of fish could be seen swimming through some of the sections, lighting the water into a luminescent blue.

Harry shared a look with his friends before sliding down the slight incline to stand beside the closest part of the lake. Behind him, he could hear Hermione casting spells to reveal the list of creatures in the lake, while Ron cast to reveal any humans that could be around them. From the relieved sigh, there weren't any.

"These creatures seem to be innocent," Hermione informed them when they turned to her, reading through the list floating in front of her with a critical eye. "I recognize some of them. Guppies, goldfish, clown fish, angel fish - some are salt water while others are fresh water. There's no explanation as to why they're mixed together in a freshwater lake."

The frustration was evident in her voice and the bond, but neither Harry nor Ron had any clue for the mystery, either. "Well, if the creatures aren't dangerous, lets just hurry and get cleaned up, okay?" Harry finally said, beginning to take his clothes off. Hermione turned her back to dig through her purse, giving him and Ron enough time to finish undressing and hop into the water. "Ready?" he asked, looking at the calm surface of the lake. Ron shook his head in response but stepped forward anyway.

"S'cold," he muttered. Harry didn't give him a chance to say any more. With a quick lunge, he tackled Ron into the water, holding back the laugh that wanted to escape at the high-pitched yelp. Instead he sucked in a deep breath of air a second before his head ducked under the water.

When Harry popped back up after Ron, shivering from the chill of the water, Hermione was clicking her tongue and casting enchantments around their spot. Ron playfully glared at Harry and waved his arm to splash a big wave towards him, which Harry ducked to avoid. A quick kick of his feet had him back above the surface, where Ron was bright red and covering his eyes.

"Close your eyes, Harry!" Hermione squeaked, using her freshly removed shirt to cover her torso. Without protest, Harry did as asked.

"It's not like we haven't seen it before, Hermione," he pointed out. Living in a small tent while on the run hadn't provided the privacy needed to be modest when changing, resulting in them seeing plenty of each other's bodies. "Ow!" he hissed, rubbing the patch of skin the stinging hex had hit.

"I'm utterly filthy, Harry," Hermione countered in her 'lecturing' voice. The sound of her entering the water followed closely by a sharp breath had him opening his eyes. "Oh, it's so cold," she breathed, biting her lip as the water rested right above her shoulders. The glow of the strange fish cast her body in shadow, only showing the outline of her curves through the water. Hopefully it was doing the same for him. No matter how many times they had seen each other naked, none of them wanted to see it detailed by light.

Her shaking hands grabbed the soap that she had set beside clean clothes near the water. After wetting her hair, she squeezed a handful out before passing the bottle to Ron, who did the same. Harry focused on using his hands to scrub the grime from his body, revealing his pale skin inch by inch until all that was left was his toes and his back. A generous squirt of the soap handed to him was scrubbed into his hair, where the suds turned rusty in color. He used a bit more.

Out of nowhere, Hermione froze, eyes going wide. Harry had just finished rinsing his hair out and was trying to reach his back when he noticed. "You alright, 'Mione?" Ron, who was lazily floating since he finished first, glanced over.

"Something is touching my leg," she whispered, eyes flickering down into the water. Harry did the same and almost shouted in alarm. Something long and thin looking was slowly slithering past Hermione's leg, the exact appearance obscured in shadow due to the glowing of the fish.

"Get out of the water," Harry softly ordered, only kicking his legs enough to stay afloat. "Ron, you first."

Ron nodded, eyes wide and skin pale as he took in the size of the thing moving around them. He started swimming towards the land, which was only a few feet away, before he suddenly went as still as Hermione. "Harry," he began in a warning voice. Harry looked up, saw where his friends were staring, and slowly turned to look over his shoulder.

"Get out!" he bellowed, hurrying as fast as he could as dripping fangs and vicious hissing chased him. Hermione squealed when Ron wrapped an arm around her, yanking her away from the body that belonged to the head chasing Harry. When Harry was in range, Ron latched onto him as well and, muscles tensing, hefted all three up with his strength. A sharp click sounded out as they rolled away from the lake, breathing heavily when a splash came after.

Hermione was the first to recover, jumping to her feet despite her nakedness with her wands in her hands. One had lengthened into a thin sword while the other was lifted to defend against an attack. Harry pulled himself up, taking the same stance along with Ron. But no attack came.

The now dark water was still, no evidence of anything that had just occurred left. The long creature - snake - was gone, hopefully buried in the deep depths of the lake.

"I've never seen a snake like that one," Harry said after a long moment of standing and breathing. He met the gazes of his exasperated best friends and, as one, they all fell to the ground and burst into uncontrollable laughter.

* * *

Once the shock of the scare had passed, they summoned their things and retreated as fast as they could away from the lake. Their bottle of soap was gone, probably in the clutches of the snake, but they didn't care enough to try for it. They had more, anyway, so it didn't matter if the snake or the fish wanted to keep it. Harry was willing to pass over all of their belongings as long as the crazy thing didn't follow.

"Okay, the lake holds some sort of snake/squid hybrid," Hermione spoke aloud, the floating quill next to her jotting the note down on the map they had begun to make. Harry sat next to her, slowly rinsing the soap from her hair with aguamenti spelled water. He was careful to wrap her hair when he finished so as to not wet her clothes. "Now we know to avoid that. For now on, we'll have to transfigure a tub and either summon water from the lake into it or from our wands."

Ron was looking over the map, noting down where the closest villages they had seen were. So far, they had the English-speaking metal village, one that had animal pens, another that was just a couple of huts surrounded by trees and one filled with people decorated in weapons noted down. They'd have to cast the map circle again in order to properly finish the map, but they were content with what they had at the moment.

"Food," Harry said, helping Hermione to sit up. "We need to figure out what vegetables and fruits are good and what are bad. Then we need to find meat. Preferably not rabbit." All of them grimaced, remembering the amount of rabbit that they had eaten when on the run. The fluffy animals were the easiest to catch with a quick summoning charm, which meant that when their traps were unlucky enough to not catch anything, they would have to make do with roasted rabbit.

"Yes, we're good on water, so there's no need to worry about that," Hermione continued where he left off, grabbing a piece of parchment and snatching the quill from midair. "We'll have to find shelter for tonight in order to sleep. Maybe we can transfigure a mattress out of some moss, so it's soft. Or we might be able to conjure one, but I'd rather transfigure so it's not permanent since we'll most likely only stay for tonight." As she spoke, her hand hurried across the parchment, making notes. "Incendio will do for the fire, though we'll need to dig a hole in the ground, surround it with rocks and add some wood. Rocks can be transfigured into plates and silverware. Um," she paused, frowning down at the list, "am I missing something?"

Ron piped up from where he was picking at his Chudley Cannons sweater. "Blankets and pillows. If we're still in the same area, it'll get cold at night."

Hermione nodded and wrote it down. "I'll conjure up some when we set up shelter."

Harry was fine with that. While him and Ron were good at Transfiguration, Hermione had been doing Conjuration longer than they had. As a result, her conjurations tended to be perfect. If Harry tried to conjure a blanket, he was positive that it would smell and look like garbage.

"Now then," Hermione continued speaking, blowing on the parchment to dry the ink. Once she was sure it wouldn't smudge, she passed it to Harry to hold and grabbed a new piece. "Tomorrow morning we're going to the metal building to watch them. We'll have to be high enough to look over their wall, but low enough that we can't be spotted. I didn't get a close enough look, but I'm sure I saw some trees we can climb that will provide coverage for us. It wouldn't do for them to see us before we're ready."

Harry raised a brow when Ron snorted, biting back his own laugh when Hermione whipped around to face the redhead, deadly glare settled on her face. Ron gulped, loudly. "It's not like we're magic or anything, 'Mione," he explained, voice rather sarcastic. Harry couldn't hold back his laughter when Hermione's face turned sheepish.

"Sorry," she sighed, "I forgot."

Taking pity on her, Harry grabbed the parchment and quill, writing his plans as he spoke. "We'll cast a disillusionment charm on all of us before we go. A swiping charm should remove any tracks we leave and a muffliato will conceal any noise we make. The three Cleansweeps are still in my pouch," he patted it to make sure it was still tied to his neck, "so we'll use those to see over the wall. If we need to go into the camp and building, we'll add extra protection charms before we do so.

We figure out who they are, what they know about the other villages, what they know about food, water and the surroundings, and how they feel about strangers. Once we have all the information we need, we get out of there, come back here and go over what we learn. Then we plan how to introduce ourselves based on what we learn. Anything to add?"

When he looked up, Hermione and Ron were swapping apprehensive and worried glances. At his suspicious frown, Ron quickly spoke up. "Not that it isn't a good plan mate - it's bloody brilliant - but, uh, your plans never seem to work."

"What Ron so eloquently said," Hermione rolled her eyes, frowning disapprovingly at the redhead, "is that something always seems to go wrong when you make plans, Harry."

Harry opened his mouth, about to defend himself and deny what they said, but realized that he couldn't. They were right. Whenever he came up with something, something else interfered and messed everything up. They were either tortured, almost killed, hurt or left embarrassed.

But this was a good plan! Maybe for once, his plan will work out fine. Harry nodded his head. "This one won't be like the others," he responded, voice determined. "Everything will work out fine."


	3. Chapter 3

**So I finally figured out how to add line breaks. Apparently the little dashes I put in weren't transferring through when I published the chapters, so I had to Google search how to do it.**

 **Second, since this may not come up in the story (I haven't decided if it will or won't), I want to just let everyone know about this now. The dropship landed in Virgina, USA. Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the same exact location of the Forbidden Forest when they appeared in this world. I'm going with the idea of tectonic plates and yada shifting, changing the geography of the world after Praimfaya hit.**

 **Rated M for language and violence (and possible insinuations). I forgot to put this in the second chapter.**

 **I know I'm updating rather quickly. Every time I finish a chapter, I edit through and fix whatever mistakes I find, and rewrite scenes I don't like. I'm kinda writing through each chapter fairly quickly. Hopefully, this schedule keeps up.**

 **Lastly, I want to say right now that Ron, Hermione and Harry aren't incredibly powerful. They're average wizards and a witch (maybe a little above average) who simply have more knowledge than Hogwarts curriculum teaches. They also trained themselves in different magics of different cultures while on the run. This is what allows them to be knowledgeably powerful. In my mind, any witch or wizard can be the same as long as they put in the effort and training that the three of my version have.**

 **With that said, I hope y'all enjoy reading! x**

* * *

The plan was going completely fine! They took every precaution and more that they had written down and applied it all before and after they started towards the large metal building, going as far as to place an apparition point on the tree where they had stayed. Even when they arrived at the building, the plan was moving along perfectly.

They learned about how the whole group were teenage delinquents (the youngest being twelve), how they fell from the sky, how the people they called 'Grounders' attacked one of their own and how they built the wall to protect themselves. They found out that apparently the Earth had been destroyed almost 100 years ago and people escaped to space in order to survive.

Growing up in the muggle world, Harry knew that civilization had visited the moon and observed space, but he was just as blown away as Ron was with the fact that the people here had lived in space and called it home. He wondered if there were aliens similar to the ones in Dudley's video games and movies. And if there were, were they intelligent? Were they able to speak human languages or did they have their own way of communicating? Have they ever attempted to attack humans? Were the theory shows correct when they said aliens have been visiting and observing Earth for countless centuries?

So many questions had been pushed aside in order to see this plan to completion, but Harry had a feeling that it wouldn't have mattered what he was putting his focus into. His plan would still fall apart and be met with trouble.

This trouble came in the form of deadly and sickly looking fog slowly forming at random locations.

"Harry, this really doesn't look good," Hermione nervously said, fidgeting with the top of her broom. All three watched as birds rapidly flapped away from the fog and small forest dwellers ran, sometimes popping up out of the tree tops for a brief glimpse.

Whatever the fog was or did, it was obvious that it was dangerous. Very dangerous.

"We need to warn them," Ron added, pointing to the rather oblivious group of teens milling around. None of them seemed aware of the fog that was slowly and ominously coming their way. "They might not be able to defend themselves from this."

"Or maybe they've dealt with it before," Hermione rebutted. "They've been here longer than we have."

Harry ignored his best friend's quiet argument and instead went over a plan in his mind. He had quickly learned that his 'Potter Luck' often got him out of sticky situations, helping him figure out the next course of action, so he was hoping that it would chime in if his new plan went down the drain. And knowing him, it would go horribly wrong at some point.

With an idea forming, Harry cut between Ron and Hermione, keeping an eye on the fog as he spoke. "Ron, you go after the group that went to get that plant," he instructed quickly. "Hermione, you stay here and make sure the group is safe. I'll go after the hunting group. Whatever you do, stay silent and out of sight unless the situation calls for it, understood? This is a stealth mission, so be stealthy."

Ron and Hermione nodded, straightening their backs and narrowing their eyes in concentration. Having been on stealth missions before to protect muggles from Death Eater attacks, all three were well aware of the system they had created. Harry, the unspoken leader, would hand out orders. Hermione, the best with protection enchantments, would keep to the largest group. Ron would scope out any incoming attacks while protecting those he was assigned to, passing the information through their bond. And Harry would protect and defend his group while keeping the other two calm and in line.

He was the glue to their little unit, grounding them and keeping them focused.

"Keep an eye out for any stragglers," Harry reminded, knowing that he didn't need to but that it helped keep himself centered on the task. "Be careful and keep the bond open."

Without another word, Hermione moved her broom to hover over the whole camp, using her honed reflexes to move a sharp eye over their surroundings. Ron cut off to the left, speeding through trees and around fog in the direction the blond girl and her friends had gone off towards. Harry watched them, sending a soothing pulse towards Hermione (she was still nervous when it came to brooms), before turning and hurrying his own broom towards where the hunting group had left.

This was a time where he wished for his Nimbus or his Firebolt. The fog was billowing ever closer, giving off a vibe of imminent death that Harry had grown used to over the years. The Cleansweep didn't seem to be moving fast enough to beat the fog to the group that had already started shouting. Leaning his chest closer to the broom, Harry gave it a burst of speed before dropping down in the next break of trees he saw.

Two teenagers were scrambling into a dark opening of a cave, coughing and stumbling for cover. Harry flicked his hand and cast a bubble ward, which would hopefully filter most of the fog away from the cave and back to where it was coming from. Deeming them safe, Harry continued moving, squinting to track the footsteps and damaged foliage the two had left behind.

"Bellamy!" a voice shouted, desperately high and drenched in fear. Harry pushed his broom forward towards the voice while still watching for the other man - Bellamy - who had come out. He flew past a large rock formation, where two sets of footprints led into a slim crack. _So two were safe, but the smaller steps don't fit any who had come out_ , he thought to himself. Which meant the yelling voice was still out here.

Harry cursed to himself and continued searching, growing more hopeless as the fog began filtering thicker towards the caves that the others had hidden. But then, as though the 'Potter Luck' had finally decided that now was as good of a time as any to make itself known, a terrified scream mixed with pain sounded out from the left of him.

He moved towards it, paying no mind to the fog that was beginning to lick at his feet, and spotted the boy that was the cause of the screaming. And what a just cause it was. The dark haired boy cradled a blistered hand to his chest, tripping over his own feet as he gagged and coughed. The fog was following closely behind, hardly an inch away from the scared boy's back.

Suddenly, the boy hit the ground, scrambling to lift himself back up even as his coughs hit a crescendo, knocking him back down. Harry pushed into a steep dive, aiming for the whimpering boy. He didn't have time to think. The fog was taking advantage of the boy's stumble, grasping at his legs despite his kicking and flailing.

With a slice from his now bladed wand, Harry slammed his bleeding hand into the ground and put all his being into begging the Earth to cover them and protect them. He leaned over the boys body, ignoring the arms and legs that hit him, and protected him from falling rocks and dirt as the Earth lifted and curled over them. The fog was abruptly cut off from them, but not before it did its damage.

Harry's feet and calves burned, every shift of fabric against the skin causing a scorching heat to erupt and flood over his body. The boy below him was still struggling, crying out in pain every time he moved his own legs. Faint remnants of the fog seemed to glow in the pitch darkness that surrounded them, and a vicious arch of his wand had it disappearing from the air as a violent gust of wind swept through the closed in space.

Dropping the charms that hid him from view, Harry cast a lumos that gave plenty of light to see the body below him. Dark brown, almost black hair curled towards his neck and forehead, slick with sweat that made it cling to skin. Dirt smudged across the back of his neck, dipping below and over the ratty shirt he wore. The Cleansweep dug into his back, pressing him to the ground with Harry's weight holding it, which only seemed to make the boy more desperate to escape.

"It's okay," Harry soothed, sitting up so he could shrink the broom and put it in his pocket. The boy below him stilled, breathing catching and holding. "You're safe now. We're protected from the fog in here, but since it's still Earth, we need to be careful not to collapse it, alright? So be careful when you move."

The boy stayed still for a moment longer, muscles tensing visible beneath his shirt. Finally, with a strangled whisper, he spoke. "A-are you a grounder?"

Harry paused and thought over the question, turning it around over and over in his head. In a way, he was a grounder. Unlike the boy and all the other teenagers, Harry had grown up and lived on the Earth. He had never even been to space, much less lived in it. But how did he explain that he was from a different world? How did he explain to the terrified teen that he had lived his whole life on Earth, but not this one?

"Technically, I am," Harry tried, testing the words on his tongue. When the teen's body curled in on itself, he hurried to comfort him. "But I'm not like the other ones here. Me and my friends aren't really from here, just like you and your group."

 _So much for stealth and sneakiness_ , Harry grumbled in his mind. Worried amusement flashed across from Hermione and Ron, who had their end of the mission under control. He pushed fond irritation back in response.

"Look, all I want to do is help, okay?" Harry sighed, leaning further away from the teen. "You're welcome to turn around if you want, but be careful of your injuries. I don't want you hurting yourself further."

He waited, displaying more patience than he thought himself possible of. All of his life, his impatience had quickly fed his hot-headedness, leaving him to explode in anger when it built up too much. Patience had never been a strong trait of his. But he was tempted to practice more control for now on when, only minutes later, the boy slowly turned over and laid on his back, staring up at him with fear and a bit of curiosity.

It was the curiosity that Harry was hoping to gain his trust with.

Silence took over for a while, where the two of them just stared and took each other in. The teen before him had dark blue eyes, dilated in pain but still alert, a strong jaw and broad shoulders. Harry couldn't make much out of his build from how both were sitting, but he could tell that the boy had an advantage in height and weight. Enough so that he could take Harry down with force.

Fortunately, Harry was trained in combat, and could easily block any attacks that came.

"So," the boy croaked at last, "who exactly are you? What are you?"

Harry startled, realizing that with trying to survive the obviously toxic fog, he hadn't introduced himself. No wonder the teen was wound so tight. "I'm Harry," he said, lifting his hand for a shake before thinking better of it when the teen tensed and eyed the movement. "As for what I am, well," he paused and decided that honesty would be best if he wanted trust, "my friends and I are... different than normal people. We have magic. I'm a wizard, as is Ron, and Hermione's a witch."

The disbelieving expression was enough for Harry to snap his unused wand out, bringing the teen's attention to where his holly wand was still providing a glowing ball of light. With his spruce wand, Harry transfigured a dirty rock into a small cat. The teen's eyes bulged and his mouth dropped open in shock. He didn't even move when Harry set the meowing feline on his lap.

Though they hadn't actually completed their animagus transformations, the three of them had brewed and taken the potion that revealed their animals. It was only after they took it that they stopped trying, instead focusing on more important and helpful branches of magic. Hermione's was a rabbit, fluffy with patches of brown and grey, accompanied by drooping ears and a poofy tail. Ron's was some sort of monkey, with incredibly long limbs and a small face. Harry's own was a slim, flexible cat with short paws and long, wild fur.

They had decided that since none of their animagus' were useful to the war, they would put the process to the side and try again when the war was over and they could live as peacefully as they could. But Harry held a large amount of fondness for cats. Professor McGonagall, who had supported them throughout their school years, could turn into one. It was why he had mastered the art of transfiguring objects into cats rather than the pig that his professor had done during first year.

"W-what is that?" the teen stuttered, finally snapping out of his shock when the tabby cat purred and rubbed against his stomach. He eyed it with trepidation, as though the baby feline would attack at any given moment.

Harry froze, mind stumbling to a halt before it began trying to decipher the teen's question. Did they not have cats up in space? Did they not have animals in space? Why have humans but no animals? Where would they get eggs or fertilizer for plants or even comfort from cuddling fluffy furballs?

"It's a cat," he slowly answered, looking for any sort of recognition from the teen. All he got was a blank stare. "More specifically, a kitten. Even more specifically, a rock turned into a kitten. So it's not really a kitten, but it looks, acts and sounds like one. But it doesn't need food or water since it's technically not real."

The blue eyed teen nodded, but continued to eye the feline warily. "What's it doing?" he asked when the cat playfully rolled in his lap, still purring happily.

With a soft laugh, Harry leaned over and ran his fingers through its fur, wiggling them above its face when it batted at them. "It wants attention," he answered simply. "Cats are pets that people have. They do have sharp claws, but if they like you, they won't attack you. The most damage they can do is a few scratches, anyway." Giving the teen enough time to pull away, Harry slowly grabbed his hand and settled the shaking limb onto its stomach. The cat arched with a purr. "You can pet it, y'know? It's a little playful, but it won't hurt you."

The teen sat and watched for a few minutes, indecision crossing his features before stubbornness took over. He followed Harry's lead and carefully brushed his fingers through the fur of the cat's stomach, showing wonder and awe as he did so. "It's so soft," he breathed, rubbing under its chin when Harry pointed to it. The cat rolled on its back, vibrating with every purr it gave as the teen gave it attention.

"What's your name?" Harry asked curiously. The blue eyed teen glanced up, surprise making his eyes wide, before he gave a hesitant smile.

"Atom. My name's Atom. How old are you?"

Harry mulled the name over in his mind as he answered, deciding that he liked it even though it was rather strange. "Seventeen, but I turn eighteen soon." The teen, Atom, merely nodded before turning his attention back to the cat, which he hadn't stopped rubbing. "How old are you?"

Atom looked back at him and raised an eyebrow. "From what it sounds like, you and your friends have been watching us. Shouldn't you already know?"

Okay, yeah, Harry understood that. He hadn't really given a lot of information away that would even hint at the large group of teenagers being watched, but he should've known that Atom would figure it out. The teens were delinquents after all. If they were anything like the ones in his own world, then their observation skills were used to help their survival instincts. So Harry did feel some shame, if not because of what he and his friends did, then because he was called out.

"We know you have three twelve-year-olds," he admitted, shrugging. "The oldest - Bellamy, I believe - is twenty-two. The blond girl, your healer, is seventeen and was a month away from being," here he paused, trying to think of what she had told the shaggy-haired brunet, "'tried and floated', was it?" He left out the fact that she was set in her belief that the dark-skinned boy had killed her father, when it was obvious to anyone who looked closely that he hadn't. "That Murphy fellow is sixteen and trying to find where he fits in, but something has him angry. The young girl, Bellamy's sister, is sixteen and acting out because she's afraid of something.

The thirteen-year-old girl named Charlotte hasn't been getting any sleep and is terrified of and furious at the dark-skinned boy-" he stopped, realizing that he had started rambling like he usually does when Hermione or Ron ask him for any important information he had collected. It had always been a flaw of his. His brain-to-mouth filter tended to malfunction due to the actions of his relatives. Growing up, they had withheld information from him and forbid him from asking questions, but had expected pure honesty in return. Not being able to get answers or information had lead to him memorizing as much as he could of anything, which then led to him attempting to put all that information into words in order to be completely honest.

It was only at Hogwarts that he realized knowledge and information were vital for survival, and that he shouldn't everything he knows in case someone were to use it against him. He had only started sharing everything with Ron and Hermione when they had begun training together and became a unit.

"Anyway, we weren't there long enough to figure out everyone's age or name, so I'm afraid that I have no clue how old you are," he gave a cheeky grin to distract Atom from his word vomit.

The teen eyed him for a moment, looking slightly impressed, but nodded. "I'm seventeen, too. Should be eighteen in the next few days, if what Monroe says is true. She's the best at tracking events like birthdays, solar flares, asteroid showers and things like that."

"Right," Harry said, shifting to get more comfortable on the hard ground. "I'll be sure to go to her to get everyone's age."

Atom snorted but adjusted himself, wincing when his legs jostled together. Not wanting to sit in silence, Harry scoured through his mind to find something that could entertain them.

"Ever heard of twenty questions?"

* * *

When the mental nudge from Hermione came, Harry was ready to tear at the Earth surrounding him until his hands bled. Atom was in the same boat.

It wasn't even the company that had Harry reaching his end. It was being unable to move more than a couple of inches for hours, accidentally jostling burns from the fog whenever they bumped into each other. Even the tabby that Harry had transfigured got stir-crazy, scratching at the ground viciously until Atom plopped it back into his lap. Then it curled up until it turned back into a rock.

(And if Atom kept the rock in his pocket, reaching in to brush his fingers over it every so often, Harry wasn't going to say anything).

So when Hermione immediately let him know that the fog was gone, he wasted no time in slicing his palm once more and asking the Earth to let them go. When it did, Harry sucked in a deep breath of air, wrinkling his nose at the faint metallic smell that seemed to linger. Atom did the same, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, as though he was hoping to suck in the last few rays of the dipping sun.

From what Harry had learned about the teen and his life in space, that was probably exactly what he was trying to do.

Through the bond, Harry ordered Ron and Hermione back to the spot where they had camped last night, deciding not to inform them of the tag along that didn't know he was going to be a tag along, and got an affirmative response. Hopefully Atom wouldn't be too angry. It would be getting dark soon and since Harry had no idea where they were, their best action in this situation would be to apparate back to their little makeshift camp and head back to what Atom called 'the dropship' tomorrow morning. At least with Ron, Hermione and him, Harry would be able to make sure Atom was safe and healed up.

"I need you to hold on to my arm," Harry said, holding out his right arm while his left one held his spruce wand. Atom frowned suspiciously at him.

"Why?"

Harry sighed and straightened his shoulders, readying himself for a fight. "We're going back to my camp. We'll stay there tonight to heal up, get food and water, and then sleep. Tomorrow morning, we'll take you back to the meta - the dropship, and cross our fingers that your people won't be too pissed at us. Sound good?"

Atom stared at him for a long moment before standing with a groan. His knees stayed steady, but shook with every step he took towards Harry. He wanted to help Atom, offer him a hand or close the distance between them, but recognized the stubborn glint that had entered the teen's eyes. Atom wouldn't appreciate any help at the moment. Harry would probably end up insulting him or his pride if he were to even offer.

When they were a foot away from each other, Harry held his arm out once more, waiting for the larger teen to make a decision. Whether he willingly grabbed his arm or not, Harry would be taking Atom back to his camp. He didn't go through so much trouble to keep the teen alive only for him to die later on by a wild animal, more fog, or the native people.

Surprisingly without any fight, Atom grabbed his forearm and stepped closer, standing by Harry's side.

"Hold on tight and do not let go," Harry instructed, readying his magic for apparition. "It'll feel like you're being squeezed from all sides, but remember to breath deeply. It'll help. You may get sick once it's over - most people do - but I'm sure Hermione will have something to get rid of the taste. Got it?"

At Atom's nod, Harry mentally counted to three before spinning on the spot, a sharp crack sounding out a second later.

They landed on burning feet, which dropped them to their knees. Atom let out a sharp cry, gagging, while Harry merely moaned and suddenly, Hermione was there, helping both to their feet without questioning Atom's presence. Harry was glad. He didn't want to answer the long list that he was sure was on the tip of her tongue.

"Come on, boys," Hermione sighed, helping Atom more than Harry since he was recovering from the pain quickly. "Let me see what damage you've done to yourselves. I've already got a tub transfigured, Harry, but I may need to expand it to be larger with another person."

Harry glanced over to where she pointed, eyeing the tub that was obviously made from stone judging by its color. When he touched it, though, it felt smooth like metal. "It's fine, Hermione," he said, smiling over at her. She was carefully cutting through the legs of Atom's jeans, ignoring his sputtered protests. "It should fit all four of us."

A loud crack announced the arrival of Ron, making Atom jump. What Harry and Hermione jumped at, though, was the drunken cursing of the teenagers accompanying him. The blond healer, the dark-skinned boy and the shaggy-haired teen were clustered to one side, with the two males holding the blond's hair back as she vomited. Though they looked a little green, the two of them busied themselves with supporting her. On the other side of Ron was a thin brunette female and a stocky, blue-eyed male. The girl was breathing shallowly, jerking every time she got sick and the boy was no better, though he held her hand comfortingly.

Between all the teens, Ron stood looking bemused and slightly annoyed with his arms crossed tightly across his chest.

"Did you just side-apparate multiple people, Ronald?" Hermione snapped, hurrying over to help. Harry joined her, scooping the blond girl up and ignoring the obviously drunk boys attempting to stop him. He carried her over to where Hermione had sat Atom on a stump, making sure the girl didn't slide off. Thankfully Atom grabbed onto her and held her up, leaning against his side. "Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

Hermione led the two drunk boys after Harry, sitting them side-by-side on the ground next to the blond, while Ron helped the other two over as well.

"I wasn't gonna leave those three," he pointed at the swaying teens, "to walk back to camp while they were out of their bloody minds. And these two almost got caught in that fog, miles away from their camp. I found them trapped by a small cliff with the fog closing in on them."

Rather than respond, Hermione handed Ron a water bottle, which he chugged down gratefully. It was spiked with sugar, if the way he immediately perked was any indication. Harry looked around at all the six teens from the dropship, took in their filthy clothes, dirty skin and tired, slightly hungry appearances.

"'Mione, I think we're gonna need to expand the bath."

He didn't duck to avoid the hit aiming for the back of his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own either fandom of this crossover, nor do I own any subject (location, characters, etc.) mentioned in these fandoms.**

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"Oh, honestly!" Hermione huffed, crossing her arms and giving the slowly sobering blond a stern look. "I need to check you over for any injuries that you might have!"

Harry rolled his eyes when Clarke only lifted her chin and responded with a half-hearted glare of suspicion. The healer was the last person to be checked over for injuries, which the three of them had quickly learned that she tended to be stubborn with. Ron had joked that she was just like Harry, only to yelp when the stinging hex caught his backside, and has been scowling at Harry ever since. The other teens gazed on in curiosity and caution from the baths Hermione had transfigured.

At least they were no longer covered in dirt and smelled like stale, metallic sweat (and alcohol, for some).

"Clarke," Wells, the dark-skinned boy, hesitantly spoke up, "they've done nothing but help us. I think we can trust them."

The buzzed blond's lip curled up disbelievingly when she replied, making Harry wince. "They're complete strangers. They kidnap us with their 'magic' and expect us to just go along with whatever they want. How are we supposed to know that this isn't a trick by the grounders? Whose to say that they aren't grounders themselves? I'm not letting them do anything to me until I get answers."

The atmosphere was silent for a long moment save for the splashes of water made by uncomfortable teens. Harry looked towards Hermione, who was puffing up with irritation, and shared a glance with Ron. ' _She's just like Hermione_ ', Ron whispered through Harry's mind. He apparently forgot to block the thought from Hermione and whined when another stinging hex caught his hip.

Fighting back the smile that wanted to escape, Harry turned his thoughts over in his mind. What was the best way to deal with a fiery, hard-headed girl? It was obvious that while Clarke was different in some aspects than Hermione, she was the same with intelligence. Maybe not as intense as Hermione was, but she definitely admired knowledge.

The best way to get to an intelligent mind, he had learned, was to lay out all the facts.

"Look," he finally said, moving forward until he stood in front of the girl. They were about the same height, making it easy to meet her gaze and hold it. "We've got magic, giving us an advantage over you. So I'm going to give you some options. First, we can immobilize you and check for injuries that way, leaving you unable to move, let alone speak. Second, we can simply knock you out, check you over and then let you sleep. But doing that, you wouldn't get to clean yourself up and eat.

"Lastly," here he paused, giving her a second to take in his words, "you can let Hermione - our best healer - look you over, heal you and repair your clothes. Then you can take a bath while we go out for food. Everyone can finish cleaning up while the food cooks, then we'll all eat and get a good night's sleep. How does that sound?"

Both of them ignored the protests that had started up, instead only focusing on each other. A variety of emotions warred across her face. Indecision, suspicion, hunger, exhaustion, curiosity. He was saddened to see a flash of fear, but decided to put that to the back of his mind to deal with later. At the moment, he was here in the present, not the future. There was no need to focus on what the fear could manifest into now.

Finally, after a silent stare down, Clarke nodded. "Fine," she sighed, rocking back on her heels, "I'll do what you say. But you need to answer my questions."

Harry sighed in relief and nodded. He'd be willing to answer any questions that the girl might have if it meant moving everything along. The night before had only given him a few hours of sleep, which was mostly filled with nightmares of green flashes. When he wasn't asleep, Harry's mind had been filled with memories of everyone that had died and everyone that he had left behind. Judging by the muffled sniffles that had sounded out from beside him, Hermione and Ron weren't any better off.

It was only knowing that the two had picked up his trait of not speaking about their issues until they were absolutely sure they were safe that kept Harry from inquiring after how they were dealing with everything.

"Just stay still," Hermione ordered the blond, waving her wand while she murmured the diagnostic charm. A list of her health popped up, showing the small scrapes and scratches that she had acquired, along with how much alcohol was in her body. Harry was interested to see that, just like the others, the girl was suffering from undernourishment. From what he could guess, all the other teens back at their metal dropship would probably have the same issues.

"Why can't he do it?" Clarke asked, nodding over at Harry even as she gazed at the list with a familiar, hungry glint for knowledge in her eyes. Ron snorted, shaking his head, while Harry gave a sheepish grin. "What? Am I missing something?"

Hermione bit her lip and raised a brow at Harry, as though asking whether he would tell the blond or if she would. He shrugged. "Harry is incapable of casting a simple healing charm," Hermione began explaining, digging through her bag to pull out a nutrition potion. "He once tried to heal a scrape that Ron had gotten, and ended up banishing a chunk of skin."

It wasn't a mere scrape. Ron had nicked himself with Gryffindor's sword while they were on the run, slicing across his thigh and gushing blood everywhere. Harry hadn't even stopped to think. He had cast the charm that he remembered Hermione using to heal a paper cut she had gotten. Instead of healing Ron, however, the charm had viciously fought Harry's magic and instead ripped a rather large hole into his friend's leg. It was only Hermione's frantic interference that had saved Ron's life. They were fortunate that Hermione, remembering that the blade was covered in basilisk venom, had convinced Harry to get a jar of phoenix tears from Fawkes before they had left.

"Harry has a talent known as Parselmagic," Hermione continued to explain as though she had no idea of the thoughts running through his head. A brush of sympathy against his mind showed him that she was well aware, though. "He gained it through unusual circumstances, but the talent has been in his body for so long that his magic has accepted it as a part of himself. You see, Parselmagic is a very rare talent that is only inherited through the bloodline. It's a form of wild magic, since it's creation came from a man who merged with a snake.

"Many think that it was a botched animagus transformation, but others say that it was a meeting of souls; soulmates." Hermione had all of the dropship teen's attention as she spoke, quickly working on a distracted Clarke. Harry shared a small grin with Ron. "No one truly knows the circumstances that brought forth Parselmagic, but it later became tarnished by a dark wizard, who used his talent to bring fear into others."

"But what does this," the thin brunette hesitated, "magic, have to do with him healing someone?"

Hermione beamed at the girl, probably happy that she could teach someone. The girl ducked further under the water, flushing, until her chin was submerged. "Well, Parselmagic is a magic of healing. Throughout time until recent years, snakes have been the icon of healer's. Parselmagic has its own language, Parseltongue, which is the only known way for wizards and witches to naturally speak with animals. Through this, Parselmagic connects us with snakes, who then connect us to nature, where our latent magic fuels life.

"Harry, being a Parseltongue, should be able to heal any wound that he comes across, but due to further circumstances, his Parselmagic is broken. It healed Harry his whole life. And because Parseltongues aren't allowed to heal themselves, Harry's Parselmagic has a crack from where the law of Parselmagic was broken. Whenever he tries to heal someone, his Parselmagic rebels and instead causes harm."

Circumstances. Harry snorted. Being abused and then tossed into dangerous situations were certainly strange circumstances, indeed. Fortunately, none of the teens were interested in asking after those circumstances, though Harry noticed Atom and the shaggy-haired male giving him narrow-eyed looks. But now that Hermione's lecture mode was ended, hunger and exhaustion seemed to seep through everyone's body, easily distracting them.

"Okay, lets get you into the bath," Ron coughed, clapping his hands together and standing. He started towards Clarke, who shifted her body away in defense.

Before Ron could put his foot into his mouth, Harry stepped forward and settled a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I've got it, Ron. Why don't you and 'Mione start looking for food? I'll come help once everyone's settled." Ron and Hermione shared a glance, cutting Harry from their minds, before nodding. As they walked off, talking softly to each other, Harry turned to Clarke and led her towards the fabric divider Hermione had put up. "Once you've undressed, just wrap yourself in the towel that's there and I'll block the guys from seeing, alright?"

Clarke hid a yawn behind her hand and slowly stepped out of view. While she busied herself with that, Harry turned towards the tent they had set up and shrunk the large trunk to tuck it into his pocket, staying out of view of the others. He didn't trust any of them not to go through their things, whether it was to find answers or to find something interesting.

Fabric shifting caught his attention, and Harry hurried out of the tent to see Clarke clutching the large towel around herself, her cheeks tinted a light pink. Without even looking towards the four males, Harry waved his wand and levitated the divider between the two baths, turning his head until Clarke cleared her throat. When she was comfortably settled in the water, Harry removed the divider, knowing they would probably want to talk.

"Is the water warm enough?" he asked, checking with his fingers before any could answer him. Feeling that the water was lukewarm, he tapped each bath with his wand and muttered a heating charm, hiding his grin when all of the teens breathed out sighs and relaxed further. Even Clarke had closed her eyes in bliss. "Well, I'm gonna go help find enough food for everyone," he told them, waiting for their attention before he continued. "Hermione set out soap for everyone to use, so go ahead and clean yourselves off. We should be back before you lot finish, and we'll clean your clothes so you can get dressed."

Before he completely left the warded camp, Harry looked at each of the dropship teens and made sure they were listening. "Be careful. Don't run off and get yourselves hurt."

With those parting words, Harry took off after his friends, easily tracking them due to the line of pebbles.

It reminded him of a childhood story that Dudley had ruined once. Under his Aunt's orders, Harry cleaned under his cousin's bed, throwing food wrappers and trash out, along with stained, irreparable clothes and shoes. While cleaning, he found a thin book with both covers missing, telling a tale of two children dropping breadcrumbs so they could find the path back home.

Hermione, being muggle raised, must have been the one to make a trail out of pebbles for Harry to follow.

Not long after, he stepped past a leafless chunk of trees, stumbling on some roots, and found his two friends slipping small creatures into a transfigured bag. Hermione was in the middle of spelling one to sleep when he moved closer, whispering a bone-crushing hex that made the animal's throat cave in and become limp. They had done this enough while on the run that none of them even flinched at the sickening crunch of broken bones.

Welcoming the privacy of not having their minds connected, Harry, Ron and Hermione worked in a comfortable air, softly talking to each other in low voices. More often than not, Harry would bite his lip to avoid grinning whenever Hermione showed exasperation at something Ron said. Even after being transported to an unknown world, he was glad to see that at least a small part of their friendship hadn't changed.

Especially when Harry had to step in after a desperate, pleading look from Ron.

"Could it be the radiation we heard the group talking about?" he asked, distracting Hermione long enough for Ron to breathe in relief. "We did hear some of them talking about how the world ended in nuclear blasts. A few of them expected to die from radiation in the air, 'Mione."

Successfully distracted from lecturing Ron, Hermione finished running the slicing spell over the form of a squirrel (well, Harry assumed it was a squirrel judging by the tail), and hummed. "I don't know the exact effects of radiation on the human body," admitting that made her nose wrinkle in frustration, "but it could be why we were attacked when we first got here. You said you saw blisters on our skin?"

"Yeah," Harry nodded. The hand holding his holly wand dragged along the skinned animal he was holding, deftly cleaning it. "They kept popping, letting out blood and pus. But more appeared whenever one popped."

Ron pressed his lips together and glanced at the creature in his own hands. A nauseous moan escaped his lips at the blood. "Blimey," he muttered.

Hermione distractedly patted his knee in comfort, leaving a smear of red on his jeans that didn't seem to make him feel any better. "Yes, that could have been the radiation, though you had similar wounds from the fog." Harry grimaced in remembrance of Hermione cleaning and healing the bloodied blisters that had covered his legs. "We can ask Clarke when we return. Having trained in muggle medicines, she should be familiar with the human body and how certain things such as radiation could effect it."

"Speaking of which," Ron cut in, casting an uncertain glance towards Hermione, "should we really be telling them about magic?"

His mind rebelled against the idea, but part of Harry couldn't help but consider it. Being the main strategist of their trio, if Ron voiced doubts about something, him and Hermione needed to listen. This time was no different. "How do you mean?" Harry questioned, rinsing his hands with conjured water after finishing his last rodent. "We can't keep our magic from them. We're in a new world that's vastly different from our own, with dangerous people trained in combat. Secrets can't be kept from possible allies."

"I'm not saying that we keep magic hidden from them," Ron defended himself. "But we shouldn't tell them _everything_ about it. That'll give away our weaknesses and strengths, which wouldn't be good if it comes to battle."

"Do you really think we'll have to fight?"

The hesitance in Hermione's voice pulled at Harry's chest. Though they had trained themselves to be prepared, none wanted to participate in war. Hermione was brought up in a peaceful setting, with the greatest threat being school bullies who found amusement in ridiculing her. Ron was raised in a more chaotic environment, but the only thing he ever had to worry about were the twin's pranks and living in his brother's shadows.

And while Harry had never had an easy life with the Dursley's, he's never been greeted with threats on his life. Starvation, yes. Punishment, yes. But death? Never.

The three of them, along with others at Hogwarts, were children tossed into a war that they should have never been involved in. Unfortunately, any attempts to look into ways to end the war without bloodshed were met with disappointment.

But dropped in a new Earth where Voldemort never existed, even Harry couldn't fight down the hope of finally living a somewhat peaceful life.

Would the people labeled as Grounders really let them be, though? From what they've observed and heard, the native people of this world seemed territorial, willing to kill others to keep their land to themselves. Merlin, would they do the same to him and his friends?

"I don't know, 'Mione," was what he finally said. "I don't know."

Deep inside, however, he did know.

"Well," she sniffed, brushing her pants off as she stood, "we'll discuss what to tell them about magic and what to not tell them when we return them to their camp. For now, we'd better hurry back before they attract trouble."

Hefting the bag of animals into his arms, Ron shook off the tense atmosphere and grinned. "S'not like they're Harry, right? They can't draw trouble to themselves like he does."

"Oi!"

Both of his friends laughed at his indignant response, starting the trek back to where the group of teens were waiting. He couldn't bite back his own grin or chuckles, though, not with how the simple act of laughter made them relax. It brought up the speech that Dumbledore had given about finding happiness in the dark by using light. The situation hadn't been as calm as the one they were in now (and thinking of it made Harry's gut clench because - _Cedric_ ), but the man's words brought warmth into him.

They'd figure everything out in the end. Even if they had to fight to survive. Because with his closest friends - who were family - with him, Harry knew he'd always have light to guide him in the right direction.

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 **It's been a while since the last upload, and all I can say is sorry. Times have been very difficult for me. I don't want to use that as an excuse, but it's all I can use to explain.**

 **Majkru was never abandoned, though. I made time (what little I had) to continue writing, even if it was a line or two. I'll continue updating, though it may be incredibly slow. With that said, I do know that y'all are actually enjoying this story, so if anyone wishes to do their own take on this idea, then they're more than welcome. It would make me feel better knowing that readers have another story to turn to that's similar to this one when updates are slow.**

 **But during the times where I found it difficult to write for this story, I did end up jotting down ideas that I'll probably never write. If you're a writer (or even a reader who plans to write) interested in Harry Potter or The 100 (fandoms so far), feel free to take a trip to my profile to find the separate work to see if any of the ideas interest you! I'd love to see them come to life in writing. (: I'm even planning on posting the idea to this story and little notes for it, for those who are interested.**

 **As for the chapter, I probably won't ever bring Harry's Parselmagic up again later on, so I wanted to explain why he won't be healing anyone (even himself) in the future. I remember reading a story that had Parselmagic as healing magic, though I can't remember its name. But I greatly enjoyed the idea, along with what it meant that Voldemort is using his own Parselmagic to inflict harm (I mean his Parseltongue). So I thought to add that little idea into this.**

 **To: RaymondWrites, SlytherinBtch (lol, I love your name, even though I'm a Hufflepuff), tablekorner, and hari92 -**

 **Thank you so much for your reviews (and private message). It took me a while to check my email for this account, but reading what you wrote is what gave me the last push of motivation I needed to continue. This isn't me asking for more reviews, by the way. I don't mind silent readers (considering I am one, lol). But y'alls support means so much to me. Thank you.**

 **And thank you to those who favorited or followed this story. Your support means just as much and I greatly appreciate you all.**

 **Well, sorry for the long note here and the shorter chapter. I really hope everyone enjoyed reading, though! Thank you! x**


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